Your name is John Egbert and you are not a homosexual. Not one bit. Nope. You look over to the man sitting next to you in this boring class. The teacher's reading your file thing to know more about you. You're not sure what they're called, exactly. But now he knows that you're mute. That's good. If only you could've said that to everyone else in the class. Of course, the teacher doesn't. You don't notice you're staring until he looks back at you. You flush and turn to the front of the class. Once you're pretty sure he's turned back, you look through peripheral vision to see if he's still looking in your general direction. He is. You can practically feel his eyes.
You figure, hey, this guy must be blind or something and just does that a lot. Who else wears sunglasses indoors?
Dave Strider does, apparently. You get the feeling he'll be a frequent worry.
FInally, the teacher announces that you're mute. You breathe out a breath of relief. You couldn't really explain it to people who want to talk to you. "Thank you," you form the words with your lips, realize they're somewhat dry, and lick them.

You feel something slip into your pocket, but don't bother to check. At least it was something going in, and not coming out.
You get to your next class, which is Music.
You always loved music. When you were little, you learned the piano. You were introduced to the class. You tried to sign something to the teacher, and she quickly lit up and announced to the class, "John is mute, so please try to be mindful of this." She kind of hissed on the last s. You sat down, and she started to lecture you.
You reach into your pocket, and pull out the note.

Your name is Dave Strider and you are flipping your shit. What the fuck were you thinking writing that? You barely even know the guy. Who does that? Ugh, you're so dumb. You sit in your art class contemplating how dumb you are. You think about what you know about him. The assignment for today was to draw something you have little knowledge of.

John fucking Egbert.
You drew his oval-shaped face, his huge rectangular frames for his glasses you think he actually needed, his incredibly pretty blue eyes, and his hair that looked like a sheep's wool would feel. Once you finish, you hand in your work and oh, my God, it's not just a crush, Dave.
Why do you like him so much? You look down, notice your shoe came untied somehow, and lean down to tie it. You're really desperately trying to get him off your mind. You lean on the desk, putting your head in your hands, right where your freckles are. Well, they're everywhere. It's like a freckle party on your face, you mean, god damn. You're obviously trying to get your mind off of him. It obviously doesn't work.
Wow.

Your name is John Egbert and you can feel your face burning.

You already read the note.
"You're fucking adorable."
Who would say that? You're not adorable. You're really not. You haven't been going to this school long enough to recognize anyone's handwriting, although you know for a few things, it isn't Jade's, or Rose's. They've both sent you notes before in their handwriting. This was pointy. You can't imagine it being Karkat's for some reason. You honestly spend more time thinking about that then about how you're placing your fingers on the piano for the choir. There are more pianists in the class, but since you're new you get to go today. It goes in a rotation. There's about three now. But it doesn't really matter that much what's taking up your mind. You know a piano like the back of your hand. When you finish, you go and sit down to collect your stuff. The teacher says something like "good job," but you're not sure if she actually meant it.
Your next class is History.
In History, you can see that you have some familiar faces. The kid you sat next to, Dave, you think, in English. Also, Kanaya. She seemed nice enough. You go up to the teacher. He seems like a decent man.
"This is John. He's new to this school. He's also mute, so if you will mind that, it'd be wonderful. Thank you. John, if you'd take the seat next to Kanaya." He leans closer "Kanaya's the one with the red hair and green eyes." You nod, because you know. As quickly as you can, you walk down the row of desks, taking a seat next to Kanaya. Dave was two seats behind you. You looked back at him, and quickly looked forward again. You looked over to Kanaya, who had written a note in the margin of her comp. notebook for this class, circled it, and then tapped it with her pencil.
"Who Is That?"
You write in the margin of your own.
"I'm not sure."
"Well Do You Know Him At All?"
"We kinda looked at each other? I don't know."
"Ok. I'll Talk To You Later."
Two classes later, you have lunch with Jade, Kanaya, and Rose. Dave is probably somewhere, but you can't see him.
"So, John, how do you like the school?" Jade is excited, as normal.
"It's interesting. I don't know what to think of some of the teachers, though."
"They are a bit weird. Have you made any other friends? Should we be incredibly jealous?" Rose asks.
"I looked at this dude a lot, and he blushed a bit, but that's pretty much it." You sign back.
Rose laughed. "Well, that sounds like something Karkat would have sometime to say about, for sure." Kanaya joins in on the conversation.
You all eat in peace, then returned to the normal school day.

You didn't write back, obviously. After just a few more classes , you're through your first day. Congratulations, you.
Let's just see how the rest of this unwinds.